


Random Words of Kindness

by Hammocker



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Crying, Feel-good, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Letters, Love Confessions, M/M, Phone Calls & Telephones, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Sweet, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-08-09 16:02:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7808230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hammocker/pseuds/Hammocker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If there was one thing Tony hadn't expected that morning, it was finding a pile of letters scattered across his desk. Who sends letters anymore, anyway?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Random Words of Kindness

**Author's Note:**

> I've been kinda angry at how utterly ungrateful some of the people in the MCU are towards the Avengers ever since I watched Civil War. I get it, collateral damage happens, it sucks, but you can't expect even the Avengers to be perfect. Things happen, things will always happen, but that doesn't invalidate the fact that they're saving hundreds of thousands of lives regularly. More on point, that ungratefulness within the fictional public seems to weigh on Tony in particular pretty heavily. I wanted to have some of the people who he's helped over the years come forward and express their appreciation, just like people have come forward and guilt tripped him in the movies. And Steve is in there too, of course.
> 
> But enough about me and my thoughts, you're here for the fic.

Tony shut the door to his office with a wave of relief. Even around his Avengers and in familiar places, he’d felt very unwelcome lately. Probably unnecessary or, worse, plain stupid, but it nagged at him. He’d done a lot of terrible things and he wouldn’t blame anyone for being unwelcoming with him, not anymore. Much as he’d tried to keep his sense of self-doubt under control, Tony had come to accept that it was justified and necessary. If he hadn’t developed it like he had in the past couple years, he might have burned the city to the ground by now. Everyone knew it and he knew it best of all. At least he didn’t feel watched in his office and his lab. He could be alone with his guilt there.

That is, he’d thought he could be before he spotted the pile of mail on his desk. The inexplicably huge pile of mail that looked like it had been dumped there without any thought, at that. No one had mentioned this to him and he certainly wouldn’t have taken so much physical mail all at once. He never even received this much actual mail, not since, like, 2005 at latest.

Tony felt a little invaded just seeing it there in its haphazard stacks. It didn’t look like bills or tax forms or anything. There were your typical, business-type white envelopes, but also purples, blues, pinks, even a few unusual shapes. Personal mail. Tony had almost forgotten what that looked like. The last time he’d gotten anything like it was-

Tony stopped that train of thought right away. No use pussyfooting around the issue. He stepped over to his desk, sat down, and picked up one of the topmost letters, a lavender thing that was a bit beaten around the edges. He tore an edge off with his thumb, pulled it open, and took the paper inside out.

“Dear Mr. Stark...”

Tony had to roll his eyes. Being called “Mr. Stark” still made him feel like some crappy knock-off of his father. But then, maybe that was appropriate. He could have imagined his old man going through his mail just like this, sat at his desk, a bit disorganized and exasperated. Maybe pouring himself a glass of whiskey.

“I want to thank you for saving my husband and I during the attack on New York. The aliens came in right on top of where we lived at the time and had you not intervened when you did, we would have been killed by, for lack of a better way of putting it, their giant worm creature. Both of us can’t thank you enough for giving us the time to get away. I doubt we’d still be around to tell the tale if you hadn’t. Or, at least, that we’d still have each other. Once again, thank you.”

Okay. General Avengers work fanmail that happened to be directed at him. Weird, but not unexpected. Tony was still wondering how it got into his office and why. Although, he wasn’t about to complain. It wasn’t that often when he was personally thanked for this kind of thing. Saving lives. But it wasn’t just him who had saved people in New York that day.

He set the first letter aside and picked up another, tearing into it.

“Mr. Stark, I wanted to thank you for your contributions to engineering. I’m an engineer myself, specializing in medical applications, and even the small amount of public information on your Iron Man project has made developing advanced prosthetics considerably easier. You’re an inspiration and everyone at the Cavalry Point Hospital and Research Center is in your debt. Thank you.”

The fellow’s name was signed below as well as at least ten other signatures scattered around it. As Tony read the note for a second time, he felt something visceral stirring in his gut. He felt- touched, maybe? It was a strange thing; he wouldn’t have thought twice about getting this sort of praise at a party. There, it would have been an ego boost, flattery, attempts to get at his wealth and resources. In letter form, it was so simple and honest and guileless that Tony wasn’t sure what to think. These people weren’t after anything, they were just happier and better equipped thanks to something he did and they’d taken the time to tell him that. It was nice of them. Tony couldn’t think of a better way to describe it than simply nice.

He put the letter on top of the last and continued to a third. Tony was beginning to wonder if anything could top the last in terms of emotional weight.

“Dear Mr. Stark.” _Sigh_. Tony read on.

“I know you must save hundreds of people every day, one way or another, so my story might not be remarkable, but I wanted to express how thankful I am for what you did for my son and I. We wouldn’t be alive right now if not for you. Everything went by so fast that I don’t remember much of that day, but I do remember that one minute a car was flying at us and the next you were there, pushing it back. Then you were gone again and I didn’t get the time to thank you. We owe you our lives, but I’m afraid I can only offer our gratitude.“

Her name was signed below; Greta Carson.

What struck Tony was that this woman was right; it wasn’t remarkable for him to have casually flown in, stopped debris from crushing civilians and flown straight back out. He did that all the time. It had never entirely occurred to him that that was saving lives, that those people could very well be dead without his intervention. The people he had saved were always less important in his mind than the ones he hadn’t. Maybe that wasn’t the right way to think about things. Maybe- No, no, no, he couldn’t have wasted his time feeling guilty and pathetic.

He placed the paper in its pile and moved on again. Three become four and four become five and five became ten. Each one was as strikingly personal as the last and came with its own surprises. Some were from old men, some from children, some were in Spanish, some Russian, some hand-written in crayon, and even one that looked like it had been banged out on a typewriter. They went on and on that way. Every one of them not only praising him, but thanking him for how he’d impacted their lives. Saving their family members, inspiring them to take on engineering, just influencing them to work to be better people. He was used to mindless praise, but Tony had only rarely given much thought to the real effect he had on people, at least, of the positive variety. It was strange and honest. Tony didn’t know what to do with such genuine appreciation. He had people telling him they loved him left and right, but he never had anyone give him a reason why. He’d only ever thought about why people hated him. That was what always came back to hit him in the face so why wouldn’t he? But sitting there and reading letters from people who genuinely thought of him as an inspiration or a hero or just a good person, it was hard to think in only those negative terms.

Before he knew it, Tony had three neat stacks of the letters and a sudden sense that maybe, just maybe, he was a good person. But that wasn’t possible. He’d ruled that out as a possibility long ago. Could the letters be fake? No, no one could replicate so much unique handwriting or get in the sheer amount of unique stationary. Not unless they had a whole team working and Tony seriously doubted anyone would dedicate resources just for the sake of making him feel better. Pepper had better things to do, Fury had better things to do. But then who would take the time to seek out people who he’d helped, collect written messages from them, and then have them delivered to them? Pepper was a possibility, but Tony had to doubt it, given that they weren’t exactly on casual speaking terms yet. Unless it was some kind of bizarre peace offering. Rhodey? No, Rhodey wasn’t much for touchy-feely things like this. He would have walked right up to Tony, punched him in the shoulder, and told him to stop feeling so shit about himself before he did something like this. So who did that leave?

Tony sat back in chair, folding his arms and shutting his eyes. He really should have been doing something useful, building something, but he couldn’t just let this go.

Then it struck him. The last time he’d gotten real mail that wasn’t business or bill related was…

No. No, that was not a possibility. He wouldn’t dare do this to Tony.

But then, there was only one way to know. His eye drifted to the drawer where he’d stowed that flip phone he’d been sent months back now. Tony had wanted to break the stupid thing, but he didn’t have the heart to. Hell, he wasn’t sure if he had a heart at all anymore. He sure had less of one than before he had the arc reactor removed.

If nothing else, though, Tony was curious. There was only one way to find out of it was him who had sent the letters. He wondered how he got so many and how he’d gotten them into Tony’s office. That is, if he was responsible. Maybe he wasn’t. He couldn’t know unless he picked up the goddamn phone.

Tony groaned and pulled open the drawer, grabbing the phone while barely looking at it. He flipped it open and pressed dial without a thought. If he got Steve, hey, at least he tried, if not, then at the end of the day it didn’t matter who organized the little letter writing campaign.

He held the phone to his ear and waited as it rang. Once. Twice. Three times. Steve probably wasn’t there. He’d gone underground for God’s sake, he’d probably be busy avoiding the authorities or training or-

_Click_. “Tony?” His voice was a bit muffled through the line, but that was Steve alright.

Tony was frozen. All at once, his throat clenched up and his mind went blank. What was he supposed to say? “Hi, Steve, did you send me all this mail from your cave in wherever-you-are-now?” No. Stupid.

“Tony, if you can hear me, I need to hear you,” Steve pressed, tone turned urgent. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Tony replied mutely. “Yeah, of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Oh, thank God,” Steve sighed. “Don’t do that; I was ready to run out and save you.”

“Save me?” Tony laughed. “Why would you want to save me?”

“Wouldn’t have left you the phone if I wasn’t prepared to,” Steve told him. It wasn’t really an answer and, if Tony didn’t know any better, he might have thought Steve was avoiding something.

“You must need something,” Steve continued. “With how I left things, you must want to give me an earful.”

“With how you left things?” Tony echoed, raising his brow. “No, no, no, you didn’t break up the team, I did.”

“You didn’t single-handedly break up the team, Tony. Neither of us made the right choices or said the right things.”

“Yeah, well, I was the last nail in the coffin,” Tony said, leaning back in his chair and letting out a heavy breath.

“Everyone did something wrong. Whether they meant to or not,” Steve said. No arguing with him, Tony figured. “Is that what you called to talk about?”

“No. No, no, it’s not.” Tony shifted uncomfortably and eyed the letters on his desk. “God, I’m gonna make myself sound like an idiot if this wasn’t you.”

“It’s that sappy, huh?”

“Oh, yeah, plenty of sap here for sure.”

There was a stretch of silence between them for a long moment, but Tony could practically see Steve’s thinking face, his lips tight and his eyes shifted to the side.

“Yes, I got those letters together for you, Tony,” he finally said.

“You did?” Tony croaked.

“Yeah,” Steve said, a shrug in his voice. “Been collecting the things since I left.”

“What? How? Why?”

“I’ve got a few good connections. You’ve helped a lot of people, you know. They’re not that hard to find.”

Tony struggled to find the right questions to ask, the right words. “But-”

“And why’d I do it? Because you needed it and I always want you to get what you need.”

“But why?” Tony repeated, dangerously close to yelling. “I nearly killed you trying to get to your best friend, I split the team, why would you still want to do something like this?”

“I care about you, Tony,” Steve said, like it was just that simple. “Even after everything. I know you felt awful about yourself when we fought. I know you’ve felt awful for a long time. Didn’t have the chance to say anything then, but I just wanted you to know that you do good things. Great things.”

Tony could only whimper the word once more: “Why?”

“I love you,” Steve said, too fast and just above a whisper.

“You-” Everything stopped right then, like Tony had been punched in the gut and was down on the ground. “What?”

“I mean- you’re family to me Tony,” Steve said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I want you to see yourself like I see you.”

“But- you love me?”

“Yeah. That’s what love is, isn’t it? Seeing the best in people even when they’re at their worst?”

“But you love me?” Tony repeated, train of thought looping in circles.

“Yeah. Yeah, I really do, even with everything that’s happened between us,” Steve said with a newfound confidence in his words. “I wish I could be there to give you a hug and tell you that you’re wonderful instead of asking people to write you letters to tell you for me. But you do what you can.”

Tony felt his chest tighten and his throat go dry. He was so happy and so disappointed and so undeserving. Painfully unworthy of any of Steve’s affection, no matter how great or mild. He wasn’t going to cry though. He couldn’t. Steve didn’t need to hear it and he didn’t want to deal with it, but no, he felt the waterworks coming on. Feelings that had been pent up with nowhere to go since he broke up with Pepper and fought Steve all welling up at once.

He coughed around a sob and fought feebly to keep his eyes dry. Tony put his free hand over his face and leaned over his desk before finally he felt tears pricking at his eyes. It was all downhill from there and he let out a long, painful whine.

Tony should have hung up the phone right then and there, shouldn’t have obligated Steve to just listen to him cry, but that line was the only source of comfort for him right now. It was his connection to Steve and Steve loved him. That was still utterly insane to think about, but Tony was going to run with it because hell if he didn’t want it be true.

“Tony,” Steve breathed into his ear. “Tony, I’m here for you. It’s okay. You’re okay. Things are gonna be fine. We’re gonna see each other again soon and then we can be together. If that’s what you want.”

Tony’s breath hitched and he was silent for a moment, a quake running through his body.

“I do want that,” he said, voice tight. “I’m- I’m sorry, Steve, I’m sorry I acted like a jackass, I’m sorry I didn’t listen-”

“No, no, no, I don’t need an apology,” Steve broke in. “I don’t hold a single thing against you. I just want you to be good with yourself, y’know? Because I know you haven’t been and I haven’t been there for you and I’m still not. Feel like I failed you, as a leader and a friend. Feels like I still am too.”

Tony interrupted his sobs with a snort of laughter. Even after all the crap he’d pulled, Steve was still the one who wanted to apologize.

“I’ll never understand you,” he said, every word painful to choke out. “Why you’re so good to me.”

“I haven’t been very good, Tony. Neither of us have. But I still care about you and I know you still care about me.”

“Unbelievable.”

“I know it is, but that’s the truth.”

“I hurt you.”

“And I _hurt_ you.”

“Well, yeah, but-”

“But I forgive you,” Steve cut in.

And there was a second punch to the gut, slightly less harsh, but still painful enough to knock the wind out of him. Tony choked out another sob and leaned down to rest his head on the desk.

“I forgive you too,” he muttered, staring longingly at the phone.

“Thank you.”

“Yeah.”

The air seemed so much lighter all of a sudden. Like a weight had been lifted off of Tony’s back and he could breathe again.

“So does this mean we’re good?” Tony asked.

“Seems like it.”

“Huh.” He gave a short, breathy laugh. “That was easy.”

“A lot of things are easy if you don’t do’em the hard way.”

“I’ve done a lot of things the hard way, haven’t I?”

“Yeah. But it’s not just you. The more I think about it, the less it matters. I love you anyway.”

“That’s- gonna take some getting used to.”

“Yeah, well, it’s better than having it up in the air.”

“Guess so,” Tony said, drawing out to word as he thought about what to say next. “I, uh. I love you too, you know. Just so we’re clear.”

Steve didn’t respond immediately and Tony heard a muffled call from somewhere nearby. He couldn’t tell who it was, but they seemed urgent. Still, that wasn’t any excuse for leaving Tony hanging when he was trying to be heartfelt.

“One second,” Steve said, his own voice dampened like he had a hand over the receiver.

One second, he says, one more second and Tony might just pop. Had Steve heard him? Had he understood? Did he care? Too many questions, too many worries about the consequences of asking them.

“I’d rather talk to you more, but I really need to go now,” Steve finally said, voice clear once more.

“Okay,” Tony said, doing his best not to sound disappointed. Trying not to sound emotional at all after such an overwhelming exchange. “You- you heard me right?”

“Yes, Tony, of course I did.” Once again, he could practically see Steve’s face; that subtle, playful smirk he sometimes got. “You think I’m not listening or something?”

“No,” Tony said, a little too fast. “I just- you know. Never can be too sure.”

“I get it, I get it.”

“Well.” Tony hesitated for a moment, just in case something came to mind. “Nice hearing you again.”

“Yeah, you too,” Steve said, equally transparent in the downplaying of his feelings. “See you later, Tony. And say thanks to Nat for me.”

“Bye.”

As soon as he’d spoken, the line went dead. Tony didn’t put the phone down or move at all though. There was a lot to take in, a lot to process, a lot that he had to remind himself had actually happened. Steve said he loved Tony and it wasn’t part of a blurry daydream or anything. He really had said those words. “I love you.” That was crazy. Goddamn insane. But it had all been real. Or he was pretty sure it had been.

Well, one way or another, Tony was pretty happy with himself. He couldn’t remember the last time that had been the case. Everything seemed a lot clearer. He had something to look forward to now, something to drive him in his day-to-day life. He hadn’t had that for a long time.

Tony regarded the stacks of letters in front of him one more time and gave a chuckle. It was a fun image, super spy Black Widow sneaking into his office with an armful of mail and dumping it on his desk without a care. If nothing else, the emotional roller coaster was worth that alone.

**Author's Note:**

> God, I hope this works within the universe and stays consistent with what we know. I really wanted to be tasteful and treat these two, though, I admit, mostly Tony, with the respect they deserve as characters.


End file.
